Adrift in Black
by ReverseSide
Summary: As a transport ship is sinking, Nanoha and Fate manage to survive by escaping onto a dilapidated life pod. They must do everything they can to endure, lost in the stars, as the pod begins to systematically break down.
1. Chapter I

**Disclaimer: I own what is my own. Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha is not one of those things.**

**Inspired by Yann Martel's **_**Life of Pi**_**. **

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**Adrift in Black**

A MGLN story

By ReverseSide

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Introduction by the Author

_It was during the second quarter of the year when this story abruptly showed itself to me. This book was born because of my lack of inspiration. Let me explain. I had already published my first novels earlier, all from the same series, all sold on Mid-Childa. Sadly, the public seemed to mostly ignore them, or else lambasted me with vague accolades (a fate far worse than ridicule; that at least would have garnered me some attention). I did my best to help the books along. But despite telling everyone I met about them and regardless of the many public appearances I made, the books simply would not sell. They lined the shelves of book stores, collecting dust in the same way governments collect outrage. They died undignified deaths._

_I must admit that the experience affected me badly. What had I done wrong? My theme was good, my words simple yet grand. Sentences flowed like honeyed milk from the promised land. And ah, the characters, why, they were so full of life that anyone could have sworn to have met them around the corner just the other day! The atmosphere was full of tension; the dialogue witty and charming. Any and every part of a story that needed to be good was great. And yet, for all the colourful descriptions and even the beautiful dramatic plot, the story was missing that all important spark, which would have made it into a real story. That feeling of throwing countless hours of brainstorming and researching away; I tell you, it really kills the soul._

_As any writer will tell you, a fresh and healthy soul is needed in order to truly tell a good tale. So I deleted all my notes on my series. The last book had ended in a reasonable manner, and I felt that it was better than anything I could have done to it now. I then sat down in the most comfortable chair I owned and opened a new data file, sure that words would come pouring out onto the page._

_It was not to be, of course. But it was this very lack of inspiration that lead me to the online page of a travel agency. They were offering a very good deal for a ticket to a world called Anumbria. I checked what people had to say about the place. "Quaint." One reviewer called it. "Peaceful," said another. Well, I thought, perhaps it was the busy ambience of Mid-Childa that was stifling my muse. And why, didn't I have that small traveling fund in the bank? The more I reflected on the idea, the more appealing it seemed to me. So I called up the company and arranged an economy class flight to Anumbria._

_The inter-planetary flight was not as bad I as feared it might have been. There were no crying children aboard, the flight attendants were diligent in their work and the man sitting next to myself neither had an avoidance towards bathing, nor a partiality for cologne. This was a good omen, I thought to myself. Because of my relaxed state of mind, I was able to strike a conversation with the man next to me. Without ever learning his name (nor he mine) I garnered that he was a native of Anumbria, he had two daughters, was divorced, and that there existed a café in the city I was heading towards that was so astonishingly breathtaking that, he assured me, I absolutely had to visit or else go through life in without a taste of the divine. Interested, I asked for directions and he gave them to me willingly._

_I arrived in Anumbria City, whether the planet was named after the city or whether the city was named after the planet, I still don't know. It was populated by a mere two hundred million people, making it utterly inconsequential compared to Mid-Childa. A full three months away from the capital, it had no particular significance to galactic history either; the wars it had been involved in were confined to the surface and did not affect much at all. In any case, it had been at peace for nearly five hundred years now. Boring, some might say, but I had the notion that this was the perfect place to conceive of a story; in much the same way college students lock themselves away from the rest of the world in order to complete their assignments._

_This grand strategy did not work nearly so well for me as I thought it might, so I left my hotel room and wandered to the café that I had heard so much praise about. It was called the River Café, and it was located, appropriately, near the Nenu River. There was no air conditioning, but three large fans kept the place from being stifling. And the cool wind provided was needed, because the place was filled to the brim with eager guests, which I felt spoke well of the quality of food there. I stood there for a while, looking for an empty table, before realizing that you were expected to sit where you want, with whoever is already there. I found that they serve good coffee, and a type of bread that makes my mouth water just thinking about it. The person I was sitting with was an old man, but still spry enough to make conversation easy. We made the usual small talk. I told him I came from Mid-Childa, and confirmed that there were many mages there, and that magic was real. When I told him I was a writer by trade, and was here on business, he held up a hand to get my attention._

_He said, "I have a story for you. It will make you believe in love."_

_This is the bane of writers everywhere; the need to hear all stories, yet knowing that most are not any good. Furthermore, love stories are a dime a dozen, and are a definite deathtrap if you want to gain notoriety (the goal of all authors). So I had to make sure that this story would be unique (unlikely). "Does this story have to do with two tragic lovers who overcome their hardships to be together?"_

_"Yes." This was not encouraging, as you might suspect._

_"Does it take place in the distant past or the far future? Or in a castle somewhere in a strange land?"_

_The elderly man smiled. "No, no. It takes place not five years ago on a life pod, and starts not long before that."_

_I confess, I was intrigued. "Tell me your story then."_

_"It's not my story."_

_What was this? Had I been hoodwinked by a con artist? Was this some sort of Anumbrian prank that I was unaware of?_

_"I can tell you the story, but it's better if you heard from the source of it all."_

_So I took out a pen, and he wrote the address of the woman who was one of the supposed main characters. "There are two," he said, "and I know them very well. They are good girls, and won't mind a few questions." He gave me a few vague details about the story and sent me on my way._

_I returned to Mid-Childa, but instead of taking a cab home, I directed the driver to the location of this main character. I rang the doorbell. Mrs. __Takamachi __answered. I asked her about the story. She laughed, telling me that it happened a very long time ago. "Not so long that you can't see the beginning and the end." I pled with her, desperate. Mrs. __Takamachi __thought about it._

_"Alright." She agreed. "But you have to listen very carefully." I showed her my voice recorder. She nodded approvingly and I was invited in. _

_I have tried to be as accurate as a can in writing down her account and if there are any mistakes, they are solely mine._

_Her story begins here._

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Chapter I

My name has no meaning, at least as far as my family was concerned. This was because my father was determined that I should go through life freely. This was something of an obsession of his, which was fortunate for me. At the age of nine I had already become a mage, and not long after I officially became a member of the Time-Space Administration Bureau. So it came to be that I was named Nanoha, which used no _kanji_ at all, and thus, held no inherent meaning.

My father, Shirou Takamachi, had been injured in a work accident and therefore was not present at my birth. When I was younger, this used to bother me sometimes, but Father was quick to assure me that he loved me just as much as my two older siblings, Kyouya and Miyuki.

"Don't worry, Nanoha." He told me once. "I'll always be there for you."

But Father was preoccupied with Mother, being still very much in love with her, and would unintentionally ignore me for lengths of time. My siblings were no better, both being born a decade earlier than me. They knew each other's quirks and for all purposes were practically of one mind. Mother used to say, "They are two halves of a whole." As such, I felt very much like the unneeded wheel in this family. I was the spare tire at the back of the car, which was never really required but was somehow still there nonetheless.

This is not to say that my family didn't love me. They did. I was simply too young to play with my siblings, and my parents were forever busy. For a while, I thought that I would be able to share in the comfort of having a second half when I met Suzuka Tsukimura, but that was quickly dashed when she found a best friend in Alisa. So it was that I grew up in a half filled state of not-quite-loneliness, which was neither good nor terrible, but which made me desperate for the kind of companionship that those around me possessed.

My childhood was not as bleak as that made it sound. For you see, I was raised with a caring family in a warm home above a bakery. It was Mother's business and it was called the Midori-ya – which could be translated as 'Green House'. It wasn't green at all, but that was its name. Business was good, which meant that there were many regular customers who relied on it to supply them with baked goods. For them this was the Mecca of all bakeries to be supported at all costs.

For me, it was a paradise. It may be that the weight of years that has compressed my memories of it into a diamond, but I recall nothing but fondness when looking back upon my upbringing there. I was never woken up by something so unseemly as a loud alarm clock. No, it was the combination of the gentle humming of my cell phone and the tantalizing smell of baking bread that would rouse me. Breakfast was always different and good. Mother would send me off with a packed lunch – but made with all the professionalism she could manage. It might be a pizza bun one day, chicken the next and sweet taro after that and so on.

It wasn't all fun, of course. There were still things to be done in order to keep the café running. I helped with setting up and cleaning up. I learned how to fix mechanical things, due to the hopeless television, air conditioner and front door that we had. For a child, it seemed like very hard work. But I didn't mind. It helped me feel useful, which is the one thing which I truly wanted.

And then my prayers were answered. I was nine when I discovered a talking ferret and a strange red jewel in my hometown. The year was 0065, according to Mid-Childan reckoning. This was the beginning of the Jewel Seed incident which occurred mostly on Earth. I won't go into much detail – much of it is classified, and the rest can easily be found. However, I will say that it was during this time that I met Fate Testarossa who, in the course of only half a year, became very important to me. I still recall the moment we exchanged our hair ties, and our friendship, with something approaching crystal-clear clarity.

This did not go unnoticed by the rest of my friends. It happened the very day I returned to school, during our first break. Suzuka, who was kind but really didn't foresee the merciless teasing that Alisa would put me through, mentioned the black ties around my hair that had been given to me by Fate.

"They're very nice. When did you get them?"

I told her that I received them during the weekend, and then she asked my where I had found them. I didn't know how to bring up Fate without telling them about magic (they were entirely ignorant about anything that I had been up to the last half year) and so I replied vaguely.

"A friend gave them to me." I hoped that might be the end of it and for a moment I thought it might be so as Suzuka nodded her head in acknowledgement, but it was not to be. I had forgotten about Alisa, who jumped on the opportunity. She was a wolf, and I a deer.

"A friend? It is a boy?" she asked me slyly.

I shook my head. "She's a girl."

Alisa's grin made me nervous, but I couldn't understand why. "I wasn't aware that Nanoha was so close with someone; close enough to exchange a gift like that! What's her name?"

No one can deny that there are some things within a child's limited experience that they are undeniably naïve about. Growing up in a bakery, I had been far too busy to watch such things as dramas on the television, or watch anything at all, really. The only love I knew about was the love that my parent professed to have for me. So it was the combination of innocence and trust (in Alisa, strangely) that would spell my doom. Because I didn't want to spill everything I knew about magic, I waffled. I gave a little hum, I hesitated a little, and then I half closed my eyes in order to think of a good enough misdirection. This was too long for Alisa, who looked as though she wanted to shake me wildly for the answer. Suzuka noticed this, and interrupted.

"This girl," she paused, "is she… special to you?" It is clear now that she wanted to give me enough rope to escape Alisa's line of questioning. I should have taken it. I should have said that no, she wasn't special at all, that it was a family friend, or something of that nature. That rope was my lifeline, and Suzuka was trying to help save me on the other end. Instead, I hung myself with it.

"Yes!" I half-exclaimed and half-sighed. "She is!"

Suzuka choked and Alisa beamed with the glow of a general who had utterly outmanoeuvred the enemy. All that was left was forcing a surrender.

"If she's so special, then why won't you tell us about her? Doesn't Nanoha think of us as friends?" Alisa, by some evil means, had managed to appear incredibly wounded by my apparent lack of faith for her.

I was too panicked by the insinuation of distrust. And even if I weren't, I wouldn't have caught the trap anyway. "Fate!" I came clean, spilling the beans. "Her name is Fate." My voice was filled with longing and hope. I longed for (as I said before) a second half and I hoped that it would be Fate. We understood each other, I had thought then, and that was more than anything I had at the time.

My friends, bless and curse them, heard the desire in my voice and utterly misread the situation. "Oh." Suzuka sighed, looking at me starry-eyed. Alisa too, gazed upon me admiringly, muttering "so it's like _that_, huh." They looked at each other, and seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.

"Nanoha," Suzuka said in her most serious tone of voice, "you have to tell your parents." Alisa nodded, agreeing with her.

I was confused. Bamboozled even. "Tell them what?"

Suzuka frowned. "It'll be okay. Just tell them you find girls more attractive than boys. And that no matter what, you'll still be their daughter."

"And if they kick you out, you can definitely stay at my place. No matter what!" Alisa said fiercely, apparently awfully worked up about something.

Never before had I seen my friends so united and deadly solemn. Sure that they knew what they were asking of me, I agreed to do what they told me to.

"Promise."

"I promise."

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It should be noted that any nine year old girl will undoubtedly choose to be with others of her own gender than a _boy_.

(Boys were gross, always getting dirty and putting worms in my hair. Girls were like Suzuka – nice and clean and most importantly, _insect free_.)

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It was my luck to have parents like mine. Still, as with any other child, I knew that there was a better chance of approaching them when they were in the best of moods. For my father, this was always around half an hour after dinner, when he was full and very receptive to ideas. It was the same for my Mother. So as they finished washing up in the kitchen, I moved resolutely in the doorway. I gave them a stern glance (this was nerve-wracking, but Alisa insisted that this was how to do it) and told them that I needed to talk to them.

My parents looked puzzled to have their way blocked by their youngest daughter who only was half as high as them. I should tell you that my parents held moderate viewpoints on most things in life, with a slight liberal leaning. Father, as I have already explained, saw himself as the type of person who would allow his children as much liberties as possible, while Mother only cared about our own happiness. "It doesn't matter what you choose to do with your life," she used to say, "as long as you are happy doing it." So after giving each other glances that said _do you know what this is about_ and receiving in return _not a clue darling_, Father took the initiative and asked me what it was that I wanted to tell them.

Consequently, I repeated Suzuka's words verbatim. "Father, Mother, I like girls."

"We know," Father said, "Your friends are here all the time." Mother's eyes widened briefly, before dismissing what I said as youthful wrong usage of words.

This was exactly what Alisa had predicted would transpire, so I continued on with the script. "No, you don't understand. I like _girls_. Not boys."

My parents looked surprised. "You must be mistaken," Father assumed.

I repeated my words. According to my friends, I had to keep doing it until they fully accepted what I was saying. At the time, I thought that this was to prevent the unwanted intrusion of boys into our house, but my parents were thinking along the same lines as my friends.

"Okay. Alright. Fine? You like girls." Father looked completely out of his depth.

I nodded earnestly as possible. "I hope you still consider me your daughter." I tried my best to look nervous. Essential, Alisa once again had assured me. Suzuka had looked doubtful, but had nodded anyway.

Flustered, Father hesitated. Mother smacked him on the arm and knelt down to look at me straight in the eyes. "Of course we do." Her warm arms enveloped me in a hug and I returned the favour. Father, knocked back to reality with this display of emotions repeated Mother's words and also embraced me. Father then called my siblings and explained to them what my preferences were. They also gave me their support.

So it was that Alisa's and Suzuka's machinations netted me a moment of pure bliss, but would cause headaches for me for a very long time afterwards.

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Soon after, around the time Fate was determined to be put on trial, the Book of Darkness incident happened. Once again, I can't go into much detail, but suffice to say, it ended with Fate and me enrolling into the TSAB. It wasn't a terrible ordeal. We were incredibly talented, or so my former instructors tell me, and we had an abundance of magical power. Still, the 0070's were a troubled time. The TSAB were low on manpower and the news was ominous. There were whispers of rebellion. If the Bureau couldn't keep order, what was it worth staying with Mid-Childa? People wondered. I was too busy with my studies to notice, but Fate worried.

The effect of all this was that the TSAB accelerated their training programs. They were determined to push out mages as fast as possible. As a direct result, both Fate and I decided to take our S-rank examinations far ahead of a normal schedule. We signed up feeling confident in our abilities.

They informed us what the test would be consisted of. We would be dropped onto Garun, a world devastated during the Saint King Unification War, and would need to survive against the hostile beasts there for a month. They confiscated our intelligent devices on the spot, claiming that they needed to determine our skills without us using any crutches.

We prepared, going through all the magical techniques we knew of. I wrote home, assuring my family that we would be fine and not to worry about me. I knew that if I passed this test, I would have financial security for the next ten years, at least. And I would have a great deal more freedom within the military if I were an S-rank mage.

But there was also paperwork. The amount of it was immense. There was the application for the test itself, which was quick. But then there came letters of recommendation, applications for interviews, application to use those interviews etc. Dotted lines existed everywhere. But we managed. And when we finished, I felt as though _that _could have been the test itself, and rightfully so.

The result of all this was that we received the name of the cargo ship we were to board. The _Unto Dawn_ it was called. We boarded. Her officers were friendly, if aloof, and the crew generally ignored us and we never found out much about them. The ship was large, but not particularly impressive. It passed all the safety requirements though, a piece of paper near the boarding area stated proudly. We were shown to our room, which Fate and I shared due to the lack of space onboard the ship. The launch alarm sounded, and I felt a brief moment of acceleration until the dampeners took care of that. I bid a silent farewell to Raging Heart and Mid-Childa. _When I come home, I'll be an S-rank mage – that's a promise!_

Naturally, things really didn't work out like I planned, but since when do they ever? You take what you get, whether they're friends or enemies, and you make the best of what you have.

* * *

_She's married. I see the ring on her finger and I ask her about it. She waves her hand, smiling. "That's part of the story. You'll understand soon enough." She gestured at me to follow her, so I did. She moves through the kitchen before sitting at the dining table. I notice her cupboards; they are filled to the brim. There is enough food here to supply a small army._

_I notice something else. A small girl, blond, peeks into the room. "Hello," I say. She runs into the room and hides behind Mrs. __Takamachi__. She looks at me bashfully. _

_"This is my daughter, Vivio." Mrs. __Takamachi__'s voice is proud. _

_"She's beautiful."_

_We are interrupted. "Nanoha-mama, where's Fate-mama?"_

_Mrs._ _Takamachi__ surreptitiously winks at me and acts sorrowful. "Am I not good enough for you?"_

_Horrified, Vivio shouts loudly, denying it. Mrs. __Takamachi __laughs and picks up her daughter. She softly presses the tip of Vivio's nose with her index finger, to which Vivio giggles. And as Mrs. __Takamachi__ and her daughter delight in each other's company, I realize something._

_This story is a good one. _


	2. Chapter II

**Disclaimer: I do not own MGLN.**

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**Adrift in Black**

A MGLN story

By ReverseSide

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Chapter II

_At times Mrs. Takamachi becomes agitated. It's nothing I do (I simply sit there, letting her talk). It's her memories that affect her so. She clutches her throat briefly when recalling her escape. She tears up at other places in the story. Don't stop, I want to tell her, but that seems a cold thing to say._

_But her tears dry and she keeps talking. This story is one that is yearning to be told, and it is clear in Mrs. Takamachi's eyes that she wants to tell it. _

_She cooks. She cooks very well. Every time I visit, she offers me a bounty – more than an elephant could eat. I don't know why I told her that I have a big appetite. It is a complete lie. It was stupid of me, but now I can't bear to see her disappointed eyes if I don't finish my meal. This is an enemy that cannot be defeated. I put whatever is on my plate into my mouth. It is delicious. And then she continues her story over the feast. I hasten to turn on my recorder._

_I'm always stuffed full at her house, yet always hungry for more._

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Before I boarded the ship, I had gone through a briefing. The trip was supposed to take sixty-one days. Thirty-two would be taken at constant acceleration, and the last twelve would be used for deceleration. We would achieve ___geosynchronous_ orbit around the planet Garun and be transported down for our exam. The _Unto Dawn_ kept to this schedule. A steadily blinking orange triangle marked our position in real-time on a map in the dining room. For days the ship plodded along through the depths of space, confident of its ability to navigate the stars.

The _Unto Dawn_ wasn't a military ship. That being said, the crew were very efficient in their work, always moving with a purpose. The ship engineers were constantly checking and rechecking the engines which tended to make loud rattling sounds at indeterminate intervals. Everything was kept running smoothly. This would have been good, had it not left Fate and me in a position of absolute boredom. There was nothing for us to do. We couldn't even practice our magecraft; the ship was unshielded against magical interference. For twenty-seven days we wandered the ship listlessly, aching for a proper assignment. On the twenty-seventh night, the ship was wrecked. I recall that I was fidgety that night, being full of unspent energy.

My restlessness saved my life.

It was about halfway through the night cycle on the _Unto Dawn _when I woke up. Normally I'm a sound sleeper and would have immediately tried to regain my slumber, but for some reason I climbed out of bed. Maybe it was because of a hollow feeling in my stomach, akin to a sort of falling sensation you get on a swing. It was a small thing so I passed it off as my nervousness about the examination. Thinking that it would be lonely to be awake by myself I shuffled over to Fate and shook her shoulder softly.

She looked at me sleepily. "What is it? What time is it?"

"It's night. But get up, okay? Let's go exploring."

If there is anything to be said for Fate, it is this: she may have been awakened in the middle of the dark to be demanded to go along on some ill-considered adventure, but she didn't get angry. Instead, she got up and nodded at me. Excited for the first time in weeks, I walked swiftly to the door before Fate interrupted me.

"Are you going to go out like that?" She asked me, with only the barest hint of amusement inflecting her tone.

I looked down and blushed. My sleepwear was definitely not appropriate for something like this. I located my barrier jacket, which I had thoughtfully spelled from Raging Heart before handing her over (I may not have had an intelligent device during the test, but I still wanted as much protection as possible). Pulling it over my head with a practiced motion, I changed into my battle uniform. Fate did the same, only she took a little longer; her attire was more complicated than mine. Unfortunately, our formal uniforms were in the wash at the time, which would end up being ghastly for Fate later on. But at the time we didn't know that, so I opened the door eagerly and stepped out, ready for an adventure.

Nights on the ship weren't much different than any other time. The lights were dimmed to simulate planet side conditions, but everything remained in the same place. But you could _feel _that it was night-time. There were fewer crew members around after dark, though, I remember thinking. Fate and I agreed to go to the observation deck where we could catch a glance of something interesting, if we were lucky. Taking our time, we were distracted on the way there and looked out at one of the small circular windows to admire the brightness of the stars. Nowhere but in space do can you find such a wonderful panorama of the universe. We stood there for a while before Fate nudged me. Reminded that I had wanted to go to the observation deck, which would offer a much better view, we continued on. We had almost made it there when the insistent sensation in my gut grew stronger.

"Fate… do you feel that?" What I said was vague, that was true, but Fate nonetheless discerned my intent.

She stopped walking and concentrated. Giving me a nod, she said softly, "Yes. It feels like the ship is decelerating."

I frowned. The acceleration dampeners (our source of artificial gravity as well) should have taken care of all sensation of movement. The _Unto Dawn _was no luxury liner, but even the most basic of space craft held some form of artificial acceleration. For us to feel anything meant that either the thing was broken, or that we were decelerating at an incredibly fast rate. Not knowing much about space travel, and not thinking about it much, I asked Fate which she thought it was.

"We're still standing on the ground. So we're probably just slowing down really quickly."

Maybe she would have said more, but she was stopped by what felt like an earthquake. The ship shook violently and I was thrown heavily into Fate. My elbow accidently jabbed her hard in the chest. With a grunt she fell into the wall with me sprawled on top of her.

"What's going on?" I asked her, unnerved.

"I don't know."

Frantic, I looked around for some kind of explanation. The lights were flickering wildly and red emergency bulbs were lit. And then I heard it, an irregular kind of hiss. It was a sound that can only be described as being inside of a canister of compressed air when something punctures it. Air whistled violently past me. Looking at Fate, I realized she had come to the same conclusion as me. _Hull breach. _

"Hurry, before the doors seal!"

Alarms belched loudly as we scrambled, frenziedly running for the airlock. If we could get to the other side before it closed – but it was futile. Heavy steel doors slid across the passageway, condemning us to a horrible death. I banged on the doors desperately, but they remained closed. I could feel the air being dragged out of the ship, slowly pulling me towards the rupture.

"Nanoha! Look!" Fate pointed behind me even as she grabbed my shirt and began dragging me roughly behind her. I looked over her shoulder and saw what she had also seen. Bold letters spelled out 'LIFEPOD' in glowing red font. The once-violent turbulence had now become a light breeze and I knew that in a few moments even those last scraps of air would be gone.

We stumbled towards it, oxygen starvation beginning to take its toll on us. Like two inebriates, we held each other up as we drunkenly made our way to the life pod. I tried to keep my thoughts clear, but I could barely remember that I had to keep my feet moving.

Choking is one of those sharp experiences that you can never get used to. In basic training they used to put us in a choke hold until we passed out. There's no ugly haze about your vision that creeps into your entire body. You start off by trying to ward it off, but it's no use. It's a horrible experience to be so wholly helpless. They told us it was so that we wouldn't panic if it ever happened to us in the field. It didn't help much. My mind was a haze of fright and confusion. I couldn't have told you why it was that I was staggering along, only that it seemed important somehow.

Abruptly I slammed into a wall and collapsed onto it. I looked up blearily and managed to conclude that we were right in front of the pod. A red lever poked out of the wall. _Pull it _my mind tried to say, but I was too exhausted. I did the best I could. Unfortunately, I was too tired and I could hardly grasp it in my hands. My fingers curled around it, and I willed it to _move! _I didn't have the strength. Then the last breath of air rushed out my lungs. Terrifyingly, I could feel its progress into my throat and out my mouth. I cried in frustration. _So close! _

Luckily, Fate saw what I was trying to do and so pressed her entire body weight against the lever, causing it to descend. The wall in front of me slid open, and Fate pushed me in before falling in after me. I was too weak to move, but Fate managed to palm the switch inside the pod that closed the door. Suddenly, my ravenous lungs managed to inhale, and I recognized that the life pod's air synthesizer had automatically activated. I laughed breathlessly with gaudy relief.

"We're alive!" I panted with wonder.

Fate gave me a weak smile, also trying to breathe in as much oxygen as she could. We had lived! All we had to do now was to wait for the repair crews to come through, fix the breach, and then we would be fine. I told her as much, and she nodded in agreement with me. But should we do in the meantime? A muffled pounding ended our deliberations. It was coming from the door.

"It's too early for a repair crew to come," Fate said uneasily. The alarms were still ringing in any case, though the blaring was quiet.

My eyes widened. "There's somebody else out there!"

Not needing to hear another word, Fate hit the switch once again, but nothing happened. As the thumping grew weaker, Fate became more distressed, and I along with her. We didn't know how to open it without using the button. We pressed the controls at random, hoping to get lucky and save the person outside. The panel unexpectedly glowed green, and I thought that we had done it.

Then a mechanical voice spoke up. "Launch sequence initiated. Launch in five seconds. Five. Four."

"What? No! Cancel that!" But the voice ignored Fate's pleas and finished the countdown.

"Two. One. Launching."

There was a brief moment of acceleration, the pod shook roughly, and then the sounds from the _Unto Dawn_ faded into silence.

* * *

There was a flash of shock. My mind could hardly conceive it. Logic told me that the chances of the ship being struck were atomically small. It was unbelievable as the moon exploding spontaneously. I lay for what seemed like a week, looking up at the ceiling. I felt like a child who had just been orphaned, alone in the middle of nowhere.

But here is the crux of my military training: worry only about what you can affect. We could do nothing about the person we had just left behind, nor could we do anything about the _Unto Dawn_. There would be time to regret and grieve after we were through this ordeal.

It may seem like a cold way of thinking, but you must understand that we didn't know if the person was alive or dead. If the person _had _died, then the manner of death was convenient as well; we didn't see his or her face, and so it was like any other death in the universe: anonymous, faceless and common. So I put the person we had left behind out of my mind and took stock of the situation.

The first impression I got of the life pod was _small_. It was a cramped thing, cylindrical except for the floor, which was a level rectangle. There were four beds, though they were more like bunks. They were dull steel slabs with a thin comforter on top, plus a small pillow. There were no blankets. The length of the pod couldn't have been more than ten meters, if that. There was locker, labelled 'OPEN' in red.

I did not notice every detail immediately, you understand. They came to my attention over time, and when they were needed. When everything is falling apart around us, some small detail, some object would transform from a background actor to the lead star. It would become important, so important that it could be said that it was the most important thing in existence.

I gently pulled at Fate and gestured at the locker. We both walked over in single file, because there was no room to walk side by side. I unlatched the door and we opened it. Inside, there were only four things. A first aid kit, a notebook, a long, thin piece of graphite and a book entitled 'READ ME'. We read it together. I don't remember the exact words it used, but I do remember the gist of what it revealed.

Our saviour was an older model made by MagiCin, a fairly prominent construction company which often used in the making of magical devices. This was odd, since it cautioned us not to use any magic whatsoever while in the life pod. Presumably, this was because it would mess up some kind of system or another. We felt no great need to test the validity of this; for our entire voyage we never used a speck of magic.

The life pod itself was meant to hold eight people, with two sharing a bed. Since there were only two of us, we didn't have to share, yet the pod still was crowded. Light came from LED bulbs embedded in the ceiling. The manual instructed us that there was a pull-out toilet near one end of the pod – guaranteed to work even in null-gravity. Air was no problem; it assured us that the internal filters would take care of air quality. There was a matter synthesizer which created both water and food for us (included were eight plastic plates and four foam cups). All navigational systems were internalized to prevent tampering. In fact, the only thing we could change was the power distribution.

That was the first thing we looked at. It was accessed through a screen showing the current level of power to each system, and little black knobs underneath of it which allowed us to fiddle around with the allocation of energy. It read in glowing white letters:

SOLAR COLLECTORS - 100

NAVIGATION - 100

AIR FILTRATION - 100

SYNTHESIZER - 100

HEATING - 100

NONESSENTIAL - 100

There were only enough dials for the last five items. The first reading was apparently just a measure of how efficiently the solar panels were working. Since everything was working at one hundred percent, Fate and I relaxed as much as we could, and talked about our state of affairs.

"How long do you think it'll take before we reach Garun?" I asked Fate.

She thought about it. "Since there's no friction, we're travelling at the same speed that the ship was until we launched."

"So around thirty more days then?"

Fate hesitated. "No. We slowed down a lot, remember? And even if we didn't, we were still supposed to have five more days of thrust."

Obviously, this was bad news. There was worse still. I know that Fate came to the same conclusion as I did, but neither of us said it. We knew that we would need to be incredibly lucky in order to be caught in the orbit of Garun – the chance of which was infinitesimally small. Our course had been plotted precisely before; there had been no margin for error. Only once a Garun-year would the planet be where we needed it to be. If it wasn't there, then we would be doomed to drift through space until the pod degraded completely, and even then our corpses would float onwards forever. It was a frightening thought.

It's outlandish, but I truly believe that fear is the only true enemy of life. Not death. Death is life's lover, content to wait until life has run its course and is ready to come to bed. Not so with fear. It is treacherous and subtle. It creeps up on you and stabs you in your weakest spot. It begins in the deep recesses of you mind and crawls to the forefront of your thoughts. It disguises itself as doubt. It sneaks past your guard, asking questions like _what if._ You try to abolish it with reason. But when reason itself agrees with doubt, it pushes past your defences with ease. You become anxious, your will wavering. And then mind-crippling dread takes root.

Having defeated your mind, it attacks your body next. You find it hard to breath. Your ears can only hear the rushing of your blood. Your stomach clenches. Your heart tries to run away from your body with a quick _thumpthumpthump._ Your skin is clammy. Your eyes abandon you, looking wildly in every direction. And in horror, you realize that you have just defeated yourself.

It was Fate that calmed me down. Fear is infectious, but Fate was immune to it. And she gave me the cure to it as well. She was looking at me intently, I recall. Though I was still in the grip of terror, I recognized her gaze. It was the not-quite esteem of a person who trusted you so absolutely, held you in such high regard, that they could not possibly begin to contemplate the thought that you weren't one-hundred percent with them. It was trust; trust that you knew what you were doing, that you were calm and that you would get them through any kind of danger. If you have ever been on the end of such a look, you would know precisely what I mean.

Fear was vanquished, forcibly pushed back and pushed down. I gave Fate a smile and she returned it softly. This would characterize the rest of my journey. Because of Fate, I couldn't give up. To give up would be to abandon her, something that I vowed not to do in that moment. It was because I couldn't leave Fate alone to deal with this. Isn't that a trait of humanity? Alone, we may just keel over and die but together we argue, we fight, we love – we _live. _Thus inspired, I calmed. And with peace came a grumbling in my stomach.

"Nyahaha…" Embarrassed, I asked her: "Do you want anything to eat?"

* * *

The survival manual held a few tips about eating.

_The food may be bland, but it contains enough sustenance to keep you healthy. Always eat until you are full! It also acts as a mouth cleanser!_

_For an adult, eat at least two cups a day. For a child, one and a half. _

_The food will spoil after five hours if not eaten._

_Chew before you swallow!_

There were also a few lines about what the food was made out of. Very dull stuff. I never paid much attention to it, having no allergies to speak of and, at that point, I didn't care what was in the food, as long as it was filling.

* * *

If you have ever eaten hospital food, I tell you now, that the 'food' that came out of the synthesizer was ten times worse. Pressing a button labelled FOOD would yield a gooey, dough-like pink goop that would drop on your plate sullenly with a meaty thwack. Attempting to sniff at it would yield no discernable smell. If you tried to move it around with a spoon, it would half fold on itself, before melding together in an indistinguishable glob. Trying to pick it up would do you no good – it would slide out of your hand instantly.

Eating it was just as bad. If you managed to keep it onto your spoon, then you would then have to move it to your mouth, a feat worthy of that ancient Greek hero, Heracles. And once there, you had to fight your tongue from rebelling like some medieval monarch throwing peasants back into the grime of their existence. And even as your taste buds recoil, you begin to chew. The meal would have no texture. You force yourself to keep going at it, a mindless tedium for your mouth. Finally, you give up and swallow the accursed thing.

Was it disgusting, you ask? Ha! It wasn't that it tasted bad. I could have lived with any kind of bad taste in my mouth. Don't people say that they become accustomed to such and such a taste? It is why people eat bitter things or drink tea. But this, this was _tasteless_, bland. You could compare it to a dry, yeastless bread that is four months stale and still this thing that pretended to be food would still come out with less taste than the bread.

It was this wasteland of insipid flatness that Fate and I ate, day after day. It wasn't so bad, I thought early on, sitting on one of the beds. The first mouthful went down fine. The second was the same. By the third, I was getting tired of chewing such nothingness. And halfway the meal, why, I could barely keep myself eating. I threw the rest down the toilet, brushing it off my plate with quick strokes. With a loud sucking noise, the toilet whisked the remains way into space. I did this for most of my early meals. This colossal waste would afterwards cause me become miserably self-loathing. I would later want to shake myself violently for performing such acts of vulgar stupidity.

Fate never minded the lack of taste. She ate it methodically, yet with a strange grace. Her spoon would dip down onto the plate and lift up without a moment lost. The gunk would stay on it perfectly – not a part fell out. The spoon would move quickly to her mouth where it would slow down, allowing her lips to close around the handle. The spoon would come out clean. Her chewing was slow, her jaws moving steadily. A little gulp, and then the process would repeat itself. It was almost hypnotic to watch. She finished the meal.

"How was it?" I asked her jokingly, impressed by her fortitude.

Fate, as was her habit, thought about it. "Bland." She told me, deathly serious.

She didn't understand why I began laughing, or why I wouldn't stop. In a manner that could be considered petulant for Fate, she stalked over to the water dispenser and poured herself a cup of water, ignoring me. The very sound of water splashing into the cup caused me to feel my own parched throat. I waited until she had sat back down.

"Faaaaate," I whined "Please get me a glass of water?"

Fate looked at me, frowning disapprovingly. It was obvious that I had waited simply to inconvenience her, and I don't think that she liked me teasing her at that particular moment. Fearlessly I looked right back at her. If she looked away first, I would win. You can also see this in the animal world. Wasn't there that story of a man who had stared down a bear and saved his own life? Here it was for a mere cup of water, but the principle was the same.

I forgot that Fate's willpower was much stronger than a bear's. After realizing that she wouldn't budge, I sent out my best weapon. I gave her my best doe-eyed look, lips pouting. Strong against direct confrontation she may have been, but my underhanded method hit her weak spot. With something that could have been called a sigh, she got up once again and brought me a cup of water. Victorious, I took a luxurious sip. The water was just a little cold and had a metallic tang to it. It was much better than the pink garbage.

My pulse raced. Face flushed, I looked over at the sleeping Fate. _God, or whoever is up there, _I asked, _keep her sleeping_. Aching expectation ran through me. I had to do it now or die. _Action, woman. Get on it!_

Let me ask you something. What is the first thing you do when you wake up? Yawn, maybe. You crawl out of bed slowly, dreading the cold air above your covers. You sit up and give yourself a few moments to become accustomed to the chill. Then you plod to the bathroom. You might brush your teeth first, carefully or carelessly. But then you feel it. The undeniable sensation of needing to address the balance of nature. You see, to wash away the not-flavour of yesterday's meal, I had drunk a lot of water. Now it was time to pay the price.

I shuffled over to the toilet and pulled it out of the wall before realizing there was no privacy to be had. I hadn't even thought about it until then. What a thing to have to suffer through! To not only be trapped on a cramped life pod but also to be brought low by embarrassment. It is a thing of the mind; to be preoccupied with the small stuff but ignore the threatening larger picture. At that moment, I could only presume that the engineers who built the pod entirely ignored the discomfort one might go through to use the toilet, and instead concentrated solely on preserving life.

_To hell with life! _I thought. _Give me dignity!_ I was wearing my battle uniform, if you recall, but it could have easily been called a battle _dress_. Seeing no other choice, I sat down, held my dress as high as I could and urinated, hoping that I would be able to finish quickly. Alas, no deity heeded my plea. Fate woke up in the middle of my morning routine.

"Nanoha?" She asked drowsily, not looking in my direction. Good, I thought. She was laying on one of the beds on the opposite side of me, so if she turned to look at me…

"Ah! Fate!" I squeaked. "Good morning! How are you?"

I was trying to distract Fate from hearing anything untoward, but my panic only served to alarm her. "What's wrong?" She asked swinging her head around. She then saw me. And what I was doing. I gave an unintelligible shriek and in return she gave an "I'm sorry!" and turned away, reddened. I finished too late.

I will say no more about this, save that when it was Fate's turn on the toilet, I sat on the bed farthest from, resolutely keeping my gaze locked on the wall and humming loudly. We were too mortified to look at each other for hours.

* * *

You may think that we were surprisingly upbeat for people in our position. Not so, and I'll explain. The sheer hopelessness of our situation caused us to feel much better. It's very simple, you see, because when you realize that you really have nothing else you can do, you start do so much more. We see this all the time. When an infantry unit is trapped by enemies who won't allow them to surrender, what do they do? They become devils, and the enemy must work hard to defeat them. It was the same with us. Our lives were practically forfeit. So why not do what we could with them while we still had them?

The problem was that we had absolutely nothing to do. Our entire existence was kept alive by the lifeboat. But we were inventive. We tried to mould our food into strange shapes, and guessed at each other's artwork. An octopus? A bird? Bardiche? But there are only so many shapes one can make, and we quickly exhausted them. I unravelled a piece of thread from one of the comforters and taught Fate to play Cat's Cradle. She was fascinated by the game, but terribly bad at it. This was one of the recreational activities that we spent the most time doing, though Fate hardly became any better at it. The string would become badly tangled, and we spent hours working out the accidental knots. We crumpled up a piece of paper and competed against each other to see who could throw it with the most flair into an empty cup. In effect, what we were doing was trying to tire ourselves out.

We didn't want to think when it came time to sleep. We understood our circumstances, of course, but it did us no good to dwell on them. So as a preventative cure, we exhausted ourselves. It worked for the most part. But it is hard to sleep without a blanket. It doesn't feel safe. It doesn't make sense, but when have emotions ever made sense? The solution was simple. We simply stripped the two extra beds of their comforters and used those as blankets. It worked surprisingly well. A shiver went through my body as I settled in. The metal underneath my mattress was cold. I fell soundly asleep.

After a few days of living in cramped conditions I noticed something. There was a persistent niggling impression that tickled my nose. It was inescapable; when I moved, it moved with me. The truth was plain and simple. I stunk.

Washing was a strained affair. I tore up one of the pillows to make a wash cloth. I undressed letting my cloths fall haphazardly onto a bed. I wet the cloth. Using it, I ran it over my body, cleansing what I could. I used a blanket as a towel and dried myself off. Then I got dressed. Simple.

But then I thought about Fate, and how she would use the washcloth next. Mind frenzied, I attempted to scrub the cloth as thoroughly as possible. My fingers grew numb from the cold water, but I kept at it to the point where it would almost seem strange, then stopped. I casually passed the cloth to Fate, who took it easily.

Fate never cared or never noticed that we were doing could be indirectly rubbing ourselves on each other. She still insisted on me turning away when she bathed, but that was it. There was no intense running water when she was done, just a quick rinse. When it came back to me, I would wash the washcloth before washing myself. It was just too awkward otherwise. It doesn't make sense, I know. But logic didn't come in to it. It was instinct. Aren't we taught at birth to keep to ourselves? Intimacy is something that humanity never got around to understanding. I never had a problem with emotional sharing; it was the physical closeness that scared me. It was such a small matter to be concerned about. Privacy was something of a luxury that we suddenly had to do without. Why did we even care? In retrospect, it became the least of our worries.

* * *

You never appreciate what you have until you lose it. Isn't that what they say? It held true at that time as well. For days we had spent living like kings on that pod. Food was abundant, if tasteless. The air was warm, the lights were on. There was lots of water. I would wish later that I had taken the time to appreciate it, before everything started to go terribly wrong.

It started so simply. We woke up one day feeling not too ragged and strong. Remarkable really, I thought, considering the strain we were under. We did our morning business with something that could almost have been called indifference. And then we decided to eat (lunch or breakfast, I can't recall). Fate went to get us our food. The pink mess, as expected, dropped onto the plates with the usual wet sound.

I waited for her to come back, but when she didn't I called out to her. "Fate?"

"Nanoha…" her voice was quiet and troubled. I looked over at her. There was something wrong. I opened my mouth in apprehension but she spoke first. "There's… the water's not coming out."


End file.
